This thing i’ve found is wonderful
although i don’t know what it does;
it sort of makes a funny buzz
on every time i push or pull.
It’s stringed, and latched with purple fuzz
which smells like dripping, mildewed wool
which makes me think of when it was

appropriate to run around with kites
on beaches and to throw down bikes,
and not to care, and not to write.

who the **** cares how
you look? beautiful, to me,
you're unparalleled.

It's good to see you.
I hate you and I love you
more than anyone.

I found a bud,
among nothing but grass
in my garden mud,
which has not been tended as
it should.
But to pass
and awe in this flower’s beauty
is the sentient’s only duty:

to stop and to admire
as we do
with a house on fire;
and you
who bring my being to a place higher
than anywhere a thought can to –
but still you are a notion,
a sight with which my mind is in motion:

a controlled
chaos, that causes
speech slowed,
implausibly placed words, and losses
of thought. I mowed
the grasses
where I found the budding flower,
and no longer think of beauty’s deep power.

I may have been drunk,
drunker than I've ever been,
but I hadn't drank.

If I am a robot
then I am your sexbot.

That's a lie,
I'm a guy

A boy lived atop a hill
pleading for a way out
that did not require skill,
experience, or clout.
He decided to drill
for oil -- with doubt.
In spite of these doubts he grew to be rich,
but was turned to a mule when he married a witch.